


The Enemy of My Enemy (Is Still My Enemy)

by Lazy8



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azula is a Sadist, Electrocution, Episode: s01e13 The Blue Spirit, Gen, Kidnapping, Nonsexual Nudity, Torture, torture of a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25770235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazy8/pseuds/Lazy8
Summary: Aang is still captured by Zhao, but this time, it isn't just Zhao. This time, someone else is there as well, and she isn't going to let him off nearly so easy...
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846456
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	The Enemy of My Enemy (Is Still My Enemy)

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** Parrilla  
>  **Hurt Character:** Aang  
>  **Comforting Character(s):** Other/Your Choice

This was _not_ happening.

It _couldn't_ be happening. Things weren't supposed to _be_ like this… but they were, and he was here, and Sokka and Katara were sick and they _needed_ his help and he couldn't help them and…

Once again, Aang tugged at the chains, but it was no use. He might have been the Avatar, but even _he_ couldn't bend metal. Zhao had him exactly where he wanted him.

Zhao, it seemed, intended to leave him hanging (in this case, literally). He had no way to tell how much time had passed after he'd been chained up and left in a room by himself, but it was long enough to wear himself out tugging helplessly against the chains. Long enough for his mind to repeatedly chase itself in circles wondering frantically how ( _if_ ) he was going to get out of here and what was going to happen if he couldn't and how he could _possibly_ help Katara and Sokka when he couldn't even seem to help himself. The only thing he knew was that it seemed like _days_ had passed before the door to his cell creaked open and Zhao came back in, accompanied by a girl Aang had never seen before.

Without even attempting to speak to him, the girl walked up to Aang and gripped his chin, turning his face from side to side as if he were an ostrich-horse she was thinking of buying. Aang shuddered; her nails were sharp enough to break the skin if she pressed down even a little.

" _This_ is the Avatar?" She didn't even bother to look at Zhao as she spoke to him, or indeed to acknowledge that Aang was a person who could hear what she was saying—even _Zhao_ had paid him the courtesy of not talking about him to his face as if he weren't there. Releasing his chin, she took a step back, her eyes flicking up and down over the rest of his body. " _This_ is the child who's been giving you and poor Zuzu so much trouble?"

"Trust me, Princess." In contrast to his usual smirk, Zhao's face now bore a scowl that looked incredibly sour. "He may _look_ harmless, but he's a slippery one."

"Well, then." The girl—the _princess?—_ snapped her fingers, and immediately four soldiers leaped forward to do her bidding. "I suppose I'll simply have to avoid repeating your mistakes." Zhao bristled, but it seemed as if he did not dare to respond, and was ignored in due turn. She turned to the soldiers. "Bring the supplies from my ship—you know the ones—and have the Avatar transported to a room where I can work. If he gets even so much as a finger free, it will be on your heads." The soldiers bowed to her as the girl turned and left.

* * *

This was bad. This was really, _really_ bad.

Immediately after the princess had given her orders, he'd been removed from the room where Zhao had been keeping him. He'd had no opportunity to make a break for it: his arms and legs alike had been kept tightly chained the whole time, the manacles never taken off. Then, they'd taken him to a different room in the same fortress, and kept him there under guard.

Aang had been frantic, and desperate, and half out of his mind with worry for Sokka and Katara, but he didn't begin to get _really_ scared until they stripped off his clothes and strapped him onto the metal table that another group of soldiers had just finished setting up.

"What are you _doing?_ " he cried. "Hey, why won't anybody _answer_ me?"

Nobody answered him. They just made one final check of his restraints, then withdrew to the edges of the room and stood at attention.

Aang had no idea how long they left him there to stew. It _felt_ like several days had gone by with him lying there in the dark and the cold with only the stubbornly silent soldiers for company, but it could just as easily have been only a few minutes. All he knew was that enough time had passed for him to grow thirsty before the door creaked open and the princess came back in, wearing a vicious smile on her face that did _not_ bode well.

"Who are you?" Aang demanded. "What do you want with me?"

"My, my, aren't we demanding?" The princess studied her nails. "I don't think you fully understand the position you're in right now, Avatar." She turned toward him, placing a hand on her hip. "So, I'll spell it out for you." She grinned wider, leaning over him until her face was offensively close to his. "I am going to ask you questions, and you are going to give me answers." Just as suddenly as she'd loomed over him, she leaned back out of his personal space. "I think that should make things clear enough, even to you."

"You can ask all the questions you want." Aang turned his head—the only part of his body he was currently capable of moving—so that he was facing the wall instead of her. "I'm not betraying my friends."

The princess sighed. "Well, don't say I didn't try to give you the opportunity to make this easy on yourself." Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, Aang could see that she was twirling a piece of hair around one of her fingers. "But, I'm afraid you leave me no choice." She snapped her fingers, and one of the guards stepped forward with a bundle of wires in hand. He began passing them out to the rest of the soldiers, who, to Aang's alarm, then attached the ends of the wires to various points on his body, some of them wrapped around his appendages, some of them sharpened to points and hooked lightly under the skin. "So, I'll ask you one more time." She held out a hand, and the free ends were placed into her palm. "You can start by telling me how you've been hiding from the Fire Nation for all this time."

Aang turned his head away, lips pressed firmly together.

The only warning he got was a flash of blue sparks in the darkened room as the princess made a circular motion with her free hand. Then, his entire body was aflame with agony.

Aang didn't even try to hold back the scream. His back arched against the restraints as every muscle in his body spasmed at once. Make it stop, make it stop, dear merciful spirits just please make it _stop…_

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Aang fell back against the table, panting, tears streaming from his eyes. He couldn't… he _couldn't…_

"I think you should know that was only a small sample of what I've got in store for you if you continue to refuse to cooperate." The princess looked completely unruffled; she ended her monologue on a large, fake yawn, covering her mouth with her free hand. "Of course, you _could_ make this stop at any time by simply giving me the information that I want; it isn't as if my questions are _that_ hard to answer. No one is keeping you in this position but yourself."

Aang didn't answer; he _couldn't_ answer. All of his focus was taken up with the simple act of breathing.

"Very well, then. But don't say I didn't warn you." Before he could brace himself, the pain hit him again.

* * *

It was hours later, and he still had not stopped shaking.

" _I'll be back in the morning,_ " the princess had said cheerfully as they'd lifted him off the table; he'd hurt so much he hadn't even _tried_ to resist. "Do _be sure to give some thought to what I've said._ "

Aang _was_ giving it thought. His mind was spinning around and around in hopeless circles as he contemplated her parting words, and what they implied. How was he going to get out of this? What was going to happen to Sokka and Katara if he couldn't? How long would he be able to hold out the next time she questioned him? Aang knew how important it was for him to stay strong, for him not to give her the information she was demanding, but… he honestly didn't know how long he'd be able to resist if he had to go through that again.

He had sunk so deeply into despair of his situation that he almost didn't notice when the masked swordsman broke into his cell.

* * *

Aang was so relieved by the rescue that it took him far, far longer than it should have to realize that his savior was _maybe, possibly_ acting out of a motive other than the goodness of his heart.

While he _could_ at least still stand and walk, it quickly became clear that Aang was not up to running or fighting, and in the end the man in the blue mask had carried him out of the fortress on his back. It wasn't until he saw the sky beginning to lighten that he started to become concerned.

"Um… thanks for rescuing me and all, but we're going the wrong direction. My friends are back that way." The swordsman didn't answer, and he made no move to slow his pace. "Hey! Did you hear me?" Aang began to squirm, attempting to get off his rescuer's back so they could go their separate ways.

That was when the swordsman grabbed his wrists, dumped him on the ground, tied his hands and feet, hefted Aang back onto his back, and continued running in the same direction that he'd been going before. _That_ was about the point where it clicked.

"Zuko, I _know_ that's you." Still there was no answer. "Look, I know that you want me to come with you for some reason, but I've got some really important things that I need to be doing right now. Other people's lives are at stake. My friends could _die_ if I don't get them medicine in time!"

No matter how much he begged and pleaded and reasoned, however, no answer was forthcoming—no verbal responses, no slowing of his pace, not even the slightest grunt or physical twinge. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall.

It wasn't until they reached the coast that the swordsman stopped running and removed his mask—yep, he'd guessed right, it was Zuko—before taking a deep breath and stepping onto the landing craft he'd left on the bank, which he then proceeded to steer toward his ship, which was at anchor in the harbor.

At this hour of the morning, the only other person on deck was the old man who traveled around with the prince; said old man was currently playing a simple melody on the tsungi horn as he enjoyed the sunrise. "Where have you been, Prince Zuko? You missed music night! Lieutenant Jee—" Whatever it was he'd been about to say, however, was promptly cut short when he noticed Zuko's burden.

"Get the crew up, and have them ready the ship!" Zuko snapped. "I'm going home."

Aang didn't get to hear any more. He was deposited inside of a locked room, his hands and feet still tied, and left there while Zuko left to do… whatever it was he needed to do to get his ship moving.

At least the ship didn't seem to be moving _yet—_ Aang would have been able to feel the motion if it had—but he also knew it was only a matter of time. He _had_ to get out of here before that happened; otherwise he'd have _no_ chance of getting back to Sokka and Katara. Desperately, he began looking around the room for any sharp objects, but could find nothing. He was on the brink of attempting to loosen the knots with his teeth when the door creaked open.

Aang's whole body jerked in surprise, which he immediately regretted when it caused every ache and burn and torn muscle to hit him full force all over again. Looking up, he was surprised to see that it was not Zuko at the door, but rather his uncle.

"I am here to tend to your injuries, Avatar." He tilted the basket he held so that Aang could see into it; it did indeed contain burn salve and rolls of bandages. "Will you let me?"

Another person might have refused. Sokka, he was sure, would have been suspicious, would have sneered at the idea of accepting help from the enemy. Aang wasn't Sokka, though; he wasn't too proud to admit he _did_ need help, and the monks had always taught him never to look a gift ostrich-horse in the mouth. Besides, he still had memories, memories that felt like they were only weeks old, of a time when the four nations had lived together in harmony, when the Air Nomads had been alive and he had had friends everywhere, including the Fire Nation. He nodded.

"What did Zuko have to say about this?" Aang asked nonetheless, pulling his shirt over his head as best he could with his hands still tied.

"My nephew does not wish to return home with a dead Avatar, any more than you wish to go the voyage untreated." The old man's hands were rough and calloused, but surprisingly gentle as he applied the salve, and Aang abruptly wondered how often he had tended similar injuries on Zuko.

"I don't suppose there's any way that you could let me go? Please," Aang continued before he could respond. "My friends are sick, and I've already been too long getting them help. They could _die_ if those fevers keep up for much longer."

The only response was a sigh, and Aang turned to face Zuko's uncle only to find that the old general now looked inexplicably weary, as if he had aged several decades in the last few minutes.

"Believe me, Avatar, there is nothing I want more than for my nephew to see the error of his ways and give up on this quest. But the situation… is more complicated and delicate than you could possibly imagine." Having finished his ministrations, he helped Aang pull his shirt back over his head from where it had been bunched around his forearms.

"I'm afraid that that is the best I can do. If you are burned on the inside—as is often the case when lightning is involved—then I'm afraid that only time, or help from a waterbending healer, can help heal _those_ wounds."

"One of my friends _is_ a waterbender. She's never told me if she can heal, though. She might not even know it herself, since there was never anyone around to train her." Aang frowned. He was just about to make another pitch for his freedom when the pounding of metal boots reached them outside the door, which abruptly slammed open.

" _Uncle!_ " Zuko roared, storming into the room. "Why isn't the ship ready for departure yet? We've finally got the Avatar, now we need to _go!_ "

"Ah, yes." Zuko's uncle pushed himself laboriously to his feet. "We can depart just as easily after the crew has gotten a good sleep," he explained placidly while Zuko seethed. "Besides, I judged that ensuring that this boy's disturbingly extensive injuries were treated should take priority over getting to the Fire Nation a couple of hours earlier." He gave Zuko a significant look. "You _did_ say you liberated him not just from Zhao's custody, but Azula's as well."

"Azula is sick." Fortunately, most of the anger seemed to have gone from Zuko's voice, though every aspect of his body language still screamed impatience. "But now that you've finished that, we _have_ to—"

"I have also been giving consideration to some other matters, Prince Zuko." He laid a hand on his nephew's shoulder; Zuko twitched as if he wanted to shrug it off, but had just enough restraint not to. "For example: if the Avatar was liberated from a Fire Nation fortress by a mysterious swordsman who never showed his face, only to then immediately show up in your custody, what conclusions might then be drawn by anyone who is aware of these circumstances?"

"I… how do you _know_ about that?" Zuko demanded.

"Furthermore," he continued rather than answering the question, "how do you think that Zhao and Azula in particular will respond, once they have put together these pieces?"

"We could be gone before they even know we have him, if you would just help me _get the ship moving—_ "

" _And then what?_ " the old man demanded in turn. "Do you honestly believe they're not going to find out? Do you think they don't have the resources to catch you once they do? Do you not think that this will get back to the Fire Lord? Zuko." He squeezed his nephew's shoulder. "My brother is many things, but he is _not_ a fool… nor has he ever been lenient with those he perceives as having committed treason. Do you _really_ want these to be the circumstances under which you return home?"

Throughout the entirety of this exchange, Aang had been holding his breath, and by the end of it, he was squirming uncomfortably: once again, his fate was being discussed to his face as if he weren't even there. So, when Zuko hesitated, he decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. "You can always catch me later, right?" he chimed in, after clearing his throat to get their attention. "You know, when nobody's life is at stake?"

Zuko hesitated. For a couple of seconds, the whole room seemed to stand still. Then, in one smooth motion, he stepped forward, grasped Aang by his bound hands, and drew a knife.

For a moment, Aang was afraid that Zuko was going to slit his throat—wanted alive or not, the look in his eyes was just that murderous. Letting out a gasp of fear, Aang turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut—only to feel the knife slice through the rope that bound his hands.

Shocked, Aang looked down at his hands, and at the frayed ends of the rope that was now hanging from his wrists. Heart pounding, but not about to question his luck, he made short work of the rope that bound his ankles, doing his best to ignore the shooting pains that tore through his midsection when he bent over. He could worry about _that_ once he made it back to a place that was safe.

"You can have exactly one day's head start." Zuko was turned away from him, but it sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth. "After that, Avatar, don't expect me to hold back."

It was probably a safe assumption that the countdown was starting right this instant, and that Zuko wouldn't give him even one second longer. Knowing he wasn't going to get another reprieve, Aang only gave a shaky nod, and bolted.

Later, though, after he had gotten the frogs and staggered back into camp, as Katara was using her newfound healing abilities to soothe away the last of his injuries, he would wonder: what had happened to make Zuko so determined to capture a complete stranger? And if they had known each other in a world without the war, could they have been friends?

**Author's Note:**

> My response after looking at the prompt that Python picked from my Bingo card, and at the character who'd been picked to be subjected to it: "Python, you MONSTER!"
> 
> ...on the other hand, there was something about the image of Aang with his shirt off and bunched up around his tied hands that I just found to be inexplicably precious.


End file.
